Truth
by EvilToTheCore13
Summary: Jenny Flint is a homeless match-seller, like many others in Victorian London, after her family kicked her out of the house. She has little hope of anything better until she meets the mysterious Madame Vastra. But they soon find themselves investigating a murder, and the truth about both the murder and Vastra herself is something Jenny could never have imagined.


**Warning: Jenny gets attacked by a gang early in this story. I realise the attempted assault could be potentially triggering...I tagged it on AO3 but forgot to put a warning on here so I'm adding one now. No harm comes to her as Vastra rescues her; their intentions are more implied than anything so I think it can stay as T, but I thought it would be best to warn.**

It was night-time. January, 1880. The London streets were dark and nearly empty. Most people had gone home once it had started to get dark. It wasn't safe to be out that late, but Jenny didn't have anywhere else to go, so there she was, standing on the corner of a narrow side-street. Every slight sound made her turn, startled, half-expecting to be attacked any second.

Jenny sold matches for a living, had done for the past two years. It wasn't much of a job. She hardly made enough money to live on. She'd been forced to steal to survive more than once, and every time, she spent the next few days desperately trying to avoid the police, terrified of spending years in prison. Still better than working in the match factories, though. She'd known people who'd died doing that.

Right now, she was just looking for somewhere to sleep. She'd been walking around for ages, struggling to see through the thick, choking smoke from the factories. Eventually she gave up looking for anywhere better and hunched up in the nearest doorway. It'd do for one night—wouldn't be the first time she'd slept on the street, after all.

She'd almost got to sleep when she heard footsteps, coming closer and closer, then stopping right in front of her. Jenny opened her eyes and looked up.

Six men glared down at her. All huge, strong-looking, and many of them with scars like they'd been in a lot of fights. She scrambled to her feet, staring around for somewhere to run to, but the men had surrounded her. She was trapped.

"I ain't got nothing to take," she said. Maybe they'd go and attack someone with more money—almost anyone had more than her—and leave her alone.

Instead, one of the men stepped forward and grabbed Jenny, gripping her arm so hard it hurt. "I hear one sound out of you, you're dead. Understand?"

Jenny briefly considered trying to fight back, then realised he had a knife in his other hand, and so did at least two of the others—long, curved knives, drawn and ready to kill Jenny if she so much as moved, let alone tried to call for help. She decided it would be best to keep quiet. Another of the men grabbed both her hands and held them behind her back.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow that hadn't been there a second ago. It moved. A person? No, no-one was around at this time of night. But it was too big to be an animal. Before Jenny could think much more about it, the shadow disappeared.

One of the men screamed. He staggered backwards, almost crashing into the others. Something flashed through the air, too fast for Jenny to see it properly. The man fell to the ground. The others turned, staring at something just out of Jenny's sight. Jenny tried to twist round and see what it was, but one of the men shoved her back.

Another scream. The man who had been holding Jenny's hands behind her back let go. Jenny spun round to look at whatever they'd seen, and immediately realised why they'd screamed.

Someone—or something—was standing over the man on the ground, who still wasn't moving—Jenny realised he was probably dead. It was tall, and wearing a long, black cloak with a hood. Jenny couldn't see its face.

She started to think about stories she'd heard but never believed—ghosts, demons, vampires. She shook her head. She wasn't a child, she didn't believe in anything like that. Still, she couldn't help being scared of the strange figure—and she was even more terrified when it pressed some kind of foreign-looking sword to the throat of the man who'd been holding Jenny. Was this thing on her side, then? She certainly hoped so, but it didn't seem likely.

For a few seconds, the five men stood frozen, silent. Then two of them charged at the shadowy thing, knives drawn. One of them lunged, but his knife only slashed through the air where the figure had been standing a moment before. Then, with one calm sweep of its sword, it cut them both down.

The man who'd been holding Jenny had run away as soon as the creature had turned away from him. Jenny couldn't blame him. She'd have done the same, but one of the remaining two men grabbed her and forced his knife against her throat. She didn't dare move.

The thing turned to face Jenny, and for a second she thought it was going to attack her. Instead, it stepped towards the man who'd grabbed her. Its sword was barely an inch from his face. The man backed away.

"Drop the knife," the thing hissed. Jenny hadn't expected it to be able to speak at all, but this was a woman's voice.

The man dropped the knife, turned and ran. The other man ran after him. Jenny was still standing, frozen in fear, wondering what this thing was going to do to her.

The creature turned to look at her. "Do you want me to follow them? I could kill them if you so wish. I am quite sure they deserve it."

Was this creature really willing to murder people for her? Jenny stared for a moment, unable to find words. "No," she eventually said. "Please—don't kill them—I don't think they'll try that again."

"I hope you are right."

Then the thing—no, person, it must have been a person, it couldn't have been anything supernatural after all—turned and started to walk away.

Jenny stared after it. What had just happened? Well, there was only one way to find out. She followed it, trying to be as silent as possible.

Somehow, though, after less than a minute, the person or creature or whatever it was had disappeared. Jenny listened for footsteps, watched every shadow carefully, but it was gone. It didn't seem possible—Jenny knew this area, she'd spent her whole life near here. She knew every road and side street and doorway, and it hadn't gone into any of them.

Something moved on a nearby roof. Jenny glanced up. Nothing. Must have been imagining it.

The next day, Jenny was about to stand on the usual street corner and start another day selling matches, but something stopped her. She was still feeling strange about what had happened the previous night. Part of her was scared. She knew there were murderers in London, but this was different. It had appeared from the shadows and disappeared just as impossibly. She couldn't think of it as just some mad human killer. And she refused to believe it was anything...well, inhuman. She'd always laughed at stories like that.

More importantly, whatever it was, it had saved her life. She'd certainly never met it before—she wouldn't forget a thing like that—but it had turned up out of nowhere and rescued her. She had to find out what it was, and what it wanted with her. She was pretty sure something that would kill three people and threaten to kill three more wasn't doing this out of simple kindness.

Why did it save her? Jenny couldn't think of a reason. She was just a match seller, after all. There were enough of them around. She wasn't special in any way. Nowhere to live—like hundreds of others. Never had any education—again, more common than not. She couldn't see any reason why anyone or anything would want to save her life.

Somehow she couldn't just ignore it. She couldn't bear the thought of never knowing. She knew how stupid it was to go looking for a dangerous killer, but she had to.

The only thing was, where to start? She'd have to ask around, and there was only one person she trusted enough to talk to about this. Her name was Lizzie Smith, and she was a thief. That didn't make her sound too trustworthy, but she'd taught Jenny how to survive after her parents had kicked her out. This seemed like it could be dangerous, and Jenny would need Lizzie's help.

She managed to find Lizzie later that day. They stepped into a narrow side street where they could talk without being heard.

"Lizzie," she said, "I've got something to tell you. Something happened to me to last night—I wouldna believed it if I hadn't been there myself..."

"What happened?"

"Last night, I—I got attacked. Six men, with knives."

"Jenny! You shoulda been more careful! You're lucky to be alive—how did you even escape?"

"Well, that's it, see, I didn't escape," she said. "Someone saved me. A—a woman...with a sword."

"A woman with a sword? Jenny, are you joking or have you gone mental? Next you'll be telling me she was in a black cloak and all as well."

Now that couldn't be a coincidence. "She was! Why? You heard of her?"

"Heard something. From Dan Grey."

Dan Grey was a pickpocket Lizzie and Jenny had both worked with. He wasn't exactly reliable, though. "You believed something Dan said?"

"Nah, course not. Not until you said something like it, just now. He said some vampire woman had been lurking round."

"Vampires ain't real," Jenny laughed. Then again, how could she be sure? Whatever had rescued her could've been a vampire. A madwoman with a sword didn't seem much more likely.

"I know they ain't. But what Dan said about this woman—no-one's seen her face, no-one even knows her name, always wears a black cloak—well, it just don't sound natural."

"I ain't heard of no vampire woman," Jenny said. "How am I to know you ain't making this up?" But it seemed too familiar for that.

"Other people say they seen her," Lizzie said. "And always at places where there've been murders. Dan says she knew a bit too much for someone who just turned up, if you see what I mean. No-one knows anything about her, but Johnny says he saw her once too, couple of days ago, on a dark night. And he didn't know why, but he felt more scared of her than he ever had of anything."

Johnny wasn't much more trustworthy than Dan, but it could still mean something. Jenny hoped that whoever had saved her wasn't some kind of murderer or monster, but she was starting to fear the worst. She'd seen the woman kill three people, after all. Still, maybe she wasn't so bad. She hadn't hurt Jenny.

"Where did he see her?" Jenny asked.

"It was in the Old Nichol," Lizzie said. "Jenny...please be careful. It's the worst slum in the whole East End, there've been three murders round there recently. I mean, nicking a watch or something is one thing, but this is dangerous. Don't get yourself mixed up in this."

"I'll be fine, Lizzie."

Usually, three murders would be a reason to avoid a place. Then again, usually people didn't get rescued by things with swords and cloaks.

"At least let me come with you," Lizzie said.

"No, I ain't putting you in danger."

Jenny left before Lizzie could argue. If she did get herself killed, she didn't want the same happening to Lizzie. And it seemed pretty likely now that this woman was a murderer, who might have just left Jenny alive to lead her into a trap. If that was true, she was walking straight into it, but she didn't have much of a choice. After all, if the woman wasn't as bad as everyone seemed to think she was, Jenny owed her one for saving her life.

It was already getting dark by the time Jenny got to the Old Nichol, and the streets were nearly empty again. She crouched down behind a corner and waited.

Nothing. After a while, Jenny started to think Dan had made it all up. Why had she been so quick to believe that nonsense when Lizzie told her? Now she was in one of the most dangerous parts of London just as night was starting to fall. She'd been stupid to even think about coming here.

Then the cloaked figure appeared from a side street, walking towards an abandoned building at the end of the road. It was evening, but there was still slightly more light than the night before, so Jenny could see her properly for the first time. She was in a dark dress now instead of the cloak, but her face was still hidden—she was wearing a veil. Was that just to stop people recognising her, or did she look like some sort of monster? Her voice hadn't sounded like how Jenny would have imagined a monster's voice. And she didn't want to think that a monster had saved her life.

The woman went into the abandoned building, and Jenny followed at what she hoped was a safe distance. The woman walked into a large room. A man was waiting there. He had short hair and was wearing some kind of jacket that looked like it was made of leather. He wasn't dressed like anyone Jenny had seen walking around London before.

They started talking. Jenny tried to listen in, but she barely understood a word they were saying. A lot of it seemed to be about science, with long words Jenny didn't know. The woman also talked about the people in London. She seemed to have quite a low opinion of them, and she talked about the workhouses and the slums as if she'd never heard of them before. Was she foreign?

Jenny took a small step forward, hoping to hear them better, but the woman heard her and turned round suddenly. Jenny tried to run, but the woman grabbed her. She struggled but couldn't escape—the woman was stronger than Jenny had thought was possible.

She was going to die, wasn't she? How could she have been so stupid? She'd gone looking for someone who'd killed at least three people, who'd been seen at places where there'd been murders. What had she expected to happen?

"Vastra," the man said, glaring at her like a warning. His accent sounded Northern.

Vastra—if that was her name—ignored him and drew her sword. "What are you doing here, ape?"

What did she mean, ape?

"Vastra, let her go," the man said.

"Please, ma'am," Jenny said. "I didn't mean no harm—didn't even hear that much. It's just—you saved my life...couple of days ago. I just wanted to thank you."

Vastra was silent for a few seconds, then said "So you are the one I rescued from the Black Scorpion Tong."

"I didn't know that was who they were, but yes, ma'am. Please, I never meant..."

Vastra turned to the man. "Doctor?"

"She's telling the truth, Vastra. You know she is. Let her go, now."

"If she really meant no harm, why is she so scared? She could be hiding something."

"Or maybe she's scared because you're pointing a sword at her," he said. "Tends to make people nervous."

Vastra lowered the sword slowly. "What is your name?"

"Jenny Flint, ma'am."

"Jenny Flint." She made Jenny's commonplace name sound foreign, somehow, and special. "And you wanted to thank me for saving your life?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well...you are welcome, Jenny Flint. My name is Madame Vastra. This is the Doctor."

_Madame_ Vastra? She must have been rich, and probably foreign too. Jenny had never met a foreigner before, certainly not a rich one.

"And she's very sorry for attacking you with a sword," the Doctor said. He looked at Madame Vastra as if expecting her to say something.

"It was a reasonable reaction, under the circumstances," she replied.

"You attacked her with a sword."

"What circumstances?" Jenny asked.

Madame Vastra paused. "I wanted the discussion I was having to be kept secret, especially from the police."

"I didn't think the coppers came after posh people like you, ma'am," Jenny said, then immediately realised she shouldn't have spoken so bluntly to someone so obviously important. "I mean..." She trailed off.

"Why would it matter to the police if I was rich?" Madame Vastra asked. "Their job is to track down anyone who has committed a crime, is it not?"

At first, Jenny thought she was being sarcastic, but it sounded like she really didn't know.

"They think only people like me could ever be criminals," Jenny said. "And what have you done wrong? Do you mean killing them Black Scorpion men?"

Part of Jenny was scared that Madame Vastra would say she had murdered the other people after all. But she couldn't have, could she? She didn't seem like that kind of person.

"I am wanted for robbing a bank," Madame Vastra replied. Jenny still couldn't see her face, but her voice sounded like she was smiling. Jenny wasn't sure what was so funny about it.

"Why'd you rob a bank, Madame? You don't seem poor."

"I am not from this country," she said, "and what I own is of little use here in London." She looked at Jenny as if curious about something. "You do not seem to have a problem with what I have done, even though it is illegal."

"I've had to steal to survive, Madame. I couldn't blame you for doing the same."

"I can see that your life has not been easy. Why did your parents send you away?"

"How do you know they did?" Jenny asked. Had Madame Vastra been watching her?

"You would not understand, even if I tried to explain. Why did they abandon you?"

Just because Madame Vastra was rich didn't mean Jenny was going to let her talk to her like she was a child. "You would not understand," Jenny said, "even if I tried to explain...Madame."

Madame Vastra paused, and Jenny wondered if she'd made her angry. Thankfully, she just laughed briefly, then continued, more seriously. "You live in one of the poorest parts of London," she said, "and often find yourself sleeping on the streets. You have no home. You are forced to earn a small amount of money selling matches, but it is not sufficient to buy enough food, and you have had to steal to be able to survive."

Jenny was sure she hadn't mentioned selling matches. How did Madame Vastra know things like this?

"This is a grave injustice, Jenny Flint," Madame Vastra continued. "You have shown signs of being surprisingly brave, and even intelligent, yet you can only survive by breaking the law. Tell me who did this to you. I will avenge this. They will not survive to harm another innocent person."

"There ain't no need to kill nobody, Madame. No one did this to me, really. It's just the way things are."

"Your family refused to let you stay in their home," she said. "Are you really going to forgive such a dishonourable action?"

"I deserved it, Madame," Jenny replied, looking down. "I'd...well, I'd done something wrong." Her family had thrown her out after they'd found out about her and Lizzie. She knew what she'd done was disgusting and wrong, but it still hurt.

"I find that hard to believe," Madame Vastra said. Thankfully, she didn't ask what Jenny had done. Jenny just hoped Madame Vastra wasn't able to guess that by looking at her, too.

"I ain't as special as you seem to think, Madame," Jenny said. "I mean, I ain't brave and clever and all that. As for brave, you saw what happened with that gang. A brave person wouldn't have needed saving."

There was a pause as Madame Vastra looked at her, and Jenny wondered what the mysterious woman was thinking. Was she judging her?

"I have a suggestion for you," Madame Vastra replied. "One I never thought I would make to a human. I will teach you to defend yourself in case any more of those barbarians decide to attack you, along with anything else that you might wish me to help you with."

It was an amazing idea, a chance at things she'd never expected, never thought she deserved. Was it too good to be true?

"What do you want in return?" Jenny asked. "I ain't got no money."

"Jenny Flint, I would never make you pay me for this. All I am giving you is what everyone should be given. I still find it hard to believe that a civilisation that claims to have advanced beyond prehistory would allow such a thing to happen. Are many people in this barbaric country in a similar situation to yours?"

"Quite a few, Madame."

"Well, I can at least do what I can for one." She paused. "If, that is, you wish me to."

"Course I do—if you're sure you don't mind." Jenny looked around. "Wait, where's that Doctor man gone?"

Madame Vastra laughed. "'That Doctor man' gave us our privacy as soon as he realised I was not about to cut your head off."

"You did scare me a bit there," Jenny said, smiling. "Anyway, when do we start?"

Jenny hoped she'd say "tomorrow," or even "now." She was desperate to find out more about Madame Vastra—she wasn't like anyone else Jenny knew.

"You will have to wait several weeks."

Weeks? Weeks of waiting for something so wonderful, Jenny could hardly imagine it?

Madame Vastra continued, "The area in which I am currently living is less than pleasant. I will not take you there."

"I'm used to rough areas."

"You should not be, when you are so young. I will not allow you to go anywhere near that place. Do not look for me there. I will be buying a house soon. Number 13, Paternoster Row. You can come then. The police do not know my real name, and I will be able to convince them that I am only a rich foreign woman with no connection to the bank robbery. Until then, goodbye, Jenny Flint."

Even though Jenny barely knew Madame Vastra, she hated the idea of leaving her and going back to selling matches.

"Goodbye, Madame."

**A/N: thanks to spork-art on Tumblr for betaing. This fic is the first in a planned series of Vastra and Jenny casefic. Each case will be Sherlock Holmes-inspired; this one will have a case inspired by A Study In Scarlet.**

**Also I have not abandoned Wesker. I wrote this fic years ago although made some rewrites and got it betaed (thanks to spork-art on Tumblr for that!) before publishing. Chapter 8 of The Supermen will go up soonish, I've just been busy. On a related note, will warn you this fic might be slow to update.**

**Concrit is very welcome, I always love to get feedback.**


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